


heart is beating heavily

by swimthewholeriogrande



Series: get out, get gone [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Richie Tozier, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 06:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimthewholeriogrande/pseuds/swimthewholeriogrande
Summary: What happens when you break a glass; or, what happens before Richie goes to Eddie.
Series: get out, get gone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548949
Comments: 1
Kudos: 86





	heart is beating heavily

Geez, Richie really can't catch a break.

That's all he can think about as his dad rounds on him, face blotchy red with alcohol and gut swinging, all he can think is _come on, Mr Turtle, this isn't really all that fair._ He killed It, he and his friends killed a motherfucking clown demon from _space_, but he's somehow still in the exact same place he was a year ago, scrambling over the sofa trying to get out of trouble. Always in trouble. Always so much trouble, beep beep, Richie -

As his mind spins wildly on this thread, his dad catches his ankle and yanks him back over the edge of the couch. Richie's chin hits the arm, and he bites his tongue until it spurts blood in his mouth. He's thrown unceremoniously into a heap beside the coffee table and barely has time to flip onto his back before his dad is standing over him again. 

_Beep beep_, Richie thinks, a high drone in his ears, _beep beep, dad, this isn't funny,_ and before he can even try and squirm out of reach a powerful hand grabs a fistful of his shirt. Richie's back bows painfully against the grip; his head smacks the hardwood. 

"Everything your mother and I have done for you," his father is raging, a constant spitting stream that Richie can't make sense of, "and all you do is lie around all day and making a mess of the house we let you live in..."

His dad hits him, hard, with a sharp popping sound, and Richie lets out an embarrassingly high pitched yelp. His cheekbone throbs, and when his dad lets go of his shirt he makes a feeble attempt to wriggle backwards.

"I'm sorry," he says, cause that's all he can ever say but it's never enough, "I'm sorry, sir, I -"

This time Richie screams, shrill and involunary, when his dad kicks his stomach. He folds over it and receives a solid smack again for his troubles, and then - well, then Richie starts to lose track a little. He's always had a short attention span, so maybe it's that, or maybe it's a little concussion to knock some sense into that big head of yours, Richie! Gotta get all those Voices out of your big fat mouth, Richie! Gotta make sure you can't say a fucking word that anyone could hear, Trashmouth!

_What are you afraid of,_ Stan asks in the haze, in his memory somewhere, and Richie writhes once, wild, thinks _stanbillbeverlybenmikeeddie help me help me help me I don't want to go missing I don't want to go missing I don't -_

Then it's over, and Richie is lying on the floor, wondering how long he's been alone. His dad is God knows where; his body is thrumming at a constant level of agony. It takes him almost ten minutes to scrape himself up off the floor and then ten more before he can convince himself his father won't be waiting at the front door for him to leave, ready for round two.

Getting on his bike makes him cough, spastic and shuddering, as his body rejects the movement, but where else is he gonna go? All Richie knows is that it's late and it _hurts_, and he doesn't want it to hurt anymore, even just for a moment, he just wants to be safe for a _night._

The ride to Eddie's house will take fifteen minutes. Richie puts his feet on the pedals and goes.


End file.
